


Angels and Demons

by michii1213 (BuckytheDucky)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:31:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5239859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckytheDucky/pseuds/michii1213





	Angels and Demons

It was such a trite way of meeting someone – a bar on the outskirts of town, sawdust strewn across the floor, occupants dancing and drinking amidst old country and rock songs that poured from the jukebox sitting in the corner by the restrooms. Trite, but effective. He stared around at the people gathered, some laughing in groups, others drowning their sob-stories with the alcohol the bartenders kept supplying. Between the loud music and clack-clack-clack of pool balls slamming against each other, he was certain tonight was a wasted attempt. The atmosphere in Ellen’s Roadhouse was simply too raucous. When those blue eyes caught his from across the room, however, Dean Winchester knew – he knew with everything in him, no uncertainty or doubt allotted – that his night had just gotten started.

He bided his time, sipping on the beer Jo had placed in front of him nearly an hour ago, holding easy, light conversation with the younger girl in between her scurrying off to serve other patrons. Though he made no show of it, he certainly kept a close eye on Blue-Eyes; it would have been just Dean’s luck to finally have found someone that enticing just to lose them in the crowd in a shabby bar. Jo sidled up and leaned against the counter.

“So what brings you by tonight?”

“You ask me that every night.”

She shrugged. “Just tryin’a figure out if your answer will ever change.”

It was his turn to jerk a shoulder up in a careless manner. “Probably not.”

“You sure seem to be a predictable man.”

She flashed him a teasing grin, and he chuckled as she walked away, rolling her eyes at the catcalls from the men sitting at the far end of the bar. _I am_ anything _but predictable, Jo Harvelle_ , he thought darkly before draining the bottle of the piss-warm beer. He glanced at the table where the owner of the most beautiful sapphire-blue irises sat nursing a mixed drink – if Dean had to hazard a guess, he would say it was a whisky and Coke. He figured it had been long enough. He rose to his feet, signalled for another beer, and, drink in hand, made his way through the maze of tables to stand beside the object of his thoughts.

“Mind if I sit down?”

**.+.+.+.**

Castiel wasn’t sure what he had expected to find when Garth had invited him out to the rowdy roadhouse on the edge of town, but to be left sitting alone because his friend had forgotten their plans certainly wasn’t it. He brought the glass of rum-and-Coke to his mouth, taking a hefty swallow. Garth was definitely going to be hearing from Castiel the next morning. He sighed again and stared around. He was not the only person who looked to be in low spirits, though he felt alone His eyes landed on a man with deep green eyes – which were staring directly at him. He diverted his gaze, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He was acquainted with the act of being hit on and ‘checked out’ by drunken bar-dwellers, but the man with emerald irises looked nothing like the usual culprits of Castiel’s creeped-out feeling. No, this man was sharper, more beautiful in a sinful kind of way. Stubble covered his jaw, his full pink lips pursing against the bottle as he drank his beer; his eyes had sent a spark of...of _something_ through Castiel, something that unsettled him at the same time it excited him in ways he couldn’t explain. He felt rather than heard the approach of someone but refused to look up. Maybe if he didn’t acknowledge their presence, the creep would leave him alone.

“Mind if I sit down?”

And _holy Hell that voice._ Castiel had to swallow two or three times before he could even attempt to speak. He opened his mouth, but the words got stuck. Instead, he nodded succinctly, watching through his lashes as the man sat across the table from him. He was even more gorgeous up close; he smelled spicy and earthy, even though he had been drinking. Cas twisted his lips into a smile before he nervously finished off his drink.

“Let me buy you another.”

**.+.+.+.**

“Okay.”

Two syllables. That’s all it took for Dean to nearly hit his knees. The blue-eyed man’s voice was deeper than Dean anticipated, gravelly and rough. Dean took a deep, steadying breath and raised a quick hand toward Jo. She nodded from behind the bar and busied herself with making their drinks. Dean smiled that crooked smile of his – the one he knew drove girls crazy – and leaned forward so that he didn’t have to yell over the music.

“So what brings you here, Blue-Eyes?”

“A friend.”

“Oh? Does this friend have a name?”

“Currently, no, as he’s an hour late.”

“Oh, _that_ kind of friend.” Dean sat back in his seat, fighting to keep an impassive expression on his face even as irrational jealousy flickered through him.

This time, it was the dark-haired one who shifted in his seat to be closer. “Actually, no. Not _that_ kind of friend. Just... A friend. We were supposed to have drinks tonight, blow off some steam, but... He still hasn’t shown.”

“Ah. Have you tried calling him?”

“No. If I’m not important enough for him to remember, then so be it. I’ll finish this drink you generously bought me, then I’ll go home.”

Dean didn’t have to be a mind-reader to decode the shadow that passed across the man’s face: He was going home to an empty apartment (he didn’t look old enough to have a house yet), with not even a pet to keep him company. The same was true for Dean, though he never had quite that reaction. He was usually more at peace while alone. Sure, he brought home the occasional ‘guest’, but generally, he was holed up in his apartment, alone but for some Jack and a book. But tonight? Tonight, he was desiring something a little less lonely, a little more dark-haired, pale-skinned, and blue-eyed.

“I’m Dean.”

“Castiel.” Castiel sighed without looking up to see Dean’s reaction to his name. “My mom was kind of a fan of angels.”

Dean didn’t question the past tense; he knew all too well the pain of having lost family, especially a mother. He thanked the waitress – Lindsey? Leslie? Lisa? – for bringing over the drinks, ignoring her attempts at flirting, and passed Castiel his. They drank in silence for a few moments before Dean inhaled slowly.

“Do you want a ride home? It’s awful dark out there, and there are some creepy guys in here, staring at you. I’d hate for anything to happen to you.”

By this time, there was a deliciously warm feeling swirling throughout Castiel’s body; he sent Dean a lazy smile and nodded slowly.

“Yes, I would like that.”

Dean nodded, ordered him to not move, and went to pay for their drinks. Jo glanced over at the other boy before her eyes met Deans, one brow raised.

“Gonna go have fun?”

“Maybe,” he responded vaguely with a quick shrug.

“Be careful with that one. He looks like he ain’t taken the stick outta his butt before. It might break him.”

Dean smirked and tapped the bar twice with his knuckles. “’Night, Jo.”

“See you tomorrow night.”

He turned on his heel, pushing through the people, and stopped next to Castiel. The other man was staring with glazed eyes at the neon signs hanging on the walls. Dean watched as Castiel’s tongue swiped across his lower lip. Though he’d known he wanted to bring someone back to his place, he hadn’t expected that person to be a damn beautiful man who looked like he only just turned twenty-one.

“Hey, you ready to go?”

Castiel’s blue eyes found his, and a smile lit up the face Dean was having trouble to stop from staring at. “Yeah!”

Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel – man, his name was a mouthful (and currently, Dean wanted a mouthful of something, other than words) – and helped lead him out to the ’67 Chevy Impala sitting in the back corner of the parking lot. He leaned Cas against the car, reaching forward to open the door but stopping with a low moan. Cas’s mouth had latched onto his neck, licking, kissing, and sucking with barely-contained enthusiasm. Dean allowed Cas to turn them so that his back was now against the side of the car, Cas pressing against him as his hands travelled along the planes of Dean’s abdomen. Dean gritted his teeth as Cas slipped his fingers into the waistband of his jeans; Dean’s hips jerked forward against Cas’s. He gripped Castiel’s arms and held the pouting, blue-eyed man away from him.

“Not here, angel. Get in.”

**.+.+.+.**

Castiel didn’t need told again; he slid into the car, letting his body relax against the cool leather. He watched as Dean got behind the steering wheel. His blue eyes eagerly soaked up everything he could see about the man he was riding with. The engine roared to life immediately, an Castiel knew that this was a well-cared-for machine. They’d just pulled out of the parking lot when the idea hit Castiel’s brain like a ton of bricks. He hesitated for a split second before he scooted closer to Dean.

“What are you –”

Castiel declined to answer. Instead, he let his fingers speak for him as they fumbled with the button and zipper of Dean’s jeans. Dean must have gotten the gist of what was happening, for he angled his hips to allow easier access. Castiel finally managed to outsmart the mechanics of the jeans, and he let out a quiet cheer as he gently pulled Dean’s cock through the slit in the front of his boxers. Castiel had never done this before, but it couldn’t be that difficult, right? He knew how much he enjoyed having someone’s mouth wrapped around his own shaft, sucking him to completion. And ever since he first laid eyes on the man sitting at the bar, he’d wondered just how he would taste, what sounds he would make as he reached his peak – would he make low, quiet noises, or would they be loud enough to echo through the silence? He smiled, took a deep breath, and let his tongue dart out to swirl around the tip. Dean groaned and threaded his fingers through Castiel’s black hair; Castiel teased just a few seconds more before taking as much of Dean as he could into his mouth – he let his hand wrap around where his mouth couldn’t. He relished in the taste of the velvety skin – musky, tangy. He hollowed his cheeks and bobbed his head up and down, moving his hand in gentle motions to assist him. Dean’s breathing became heavy and rapid; the car suddenly stopped, and Castiel moved faster and managed to take all of Dean’s length into his mouth, fighting his gag reflex. He hummed and moaned around the cock, his fingers moving from the shaft to fondle Dean’s sac. His brain brought forth a memory of Rebecca having swallowed around the head of Castiel’s cock the one and only time she’d ever blown him; he mimicked what she had done and celebrated on the inside when Dean gasped and bucked his hips forward, repeatedly, the hand in Castiel’s hair pushing and pulling his head in time with his thrusts. Without warning, Dean let out a ragged breath and pushed up one last time, and Castiel felt the hot, thick spurts hitting the back of his throat. He swallowed everything he could before he sat back in the seat. The expression on Dean’s face nearly made Castiel cum in his pants like a pathetic teenager: There was a sated smile on his face, but those green eyes held a burning heat, a fiery want that Castiel wanted nothing more than to satisfy.

Dean didn’t say a word as he put the car in drive and sped down the road. He hadn’t put his cock away in his rush to get wherever he was taking Castiel. It was all Castiel could do to not reach out to touch him. When Dean pealed into a parking spot in front of a tall building and braked with a slam of the pedal, he hastily buttoned his jeans and slid out of the car. Castiel had barely opened the passenger door when the other man was there, helping him move faster. As soon as the elevator doors slid closed behind them, Dean was attacking Castiel with hot, wet kisses, his mouth easily dominating Castiel’s. Too soon, they were separating long enough to walk down the hall and stopping outside the third door. Dean wasted no time in unlocking the door, pulling Castiel inside, and slamming the door shut as he pinned the dark-haired man to the wall, his lips and teeth finding the spot on Castiel’s neck within seconds; Castiel gasped and whimpered as  Dean nipped and sucked and licked at the sensitive area. Though Dean wasn’t gentle in his ministrations, Castiel had never enjoyed foreplay more.

They somehow made it to Dean’s bedroom through the dark, never separating, and Castiel collapsed onto the bed. Dean rested on top of him, still lavishing Castiel’s neck and mouth with heady kisses. They parted long enough to remove their shirts and jeans; Castiel preened under Dean’s lustful examination of his bare chest and torso. Dean growled low in his throat as he captured Castiel’s mouth with his, his hips rolling to press his erection against Castiel’s. Castiel nearly came undone at the merest touch. Dean grinned down at Castiel and reached for something out of Castiel’s sight. When he brought his hands back, Castiel saw the bottle and foil packet. He knew he should say something, tell Dean he’d never done this – had never had sex with another man – but his mouth was cotton. Besides, he wanted it. He wanted Dean to slam into him, to fill him, more than he’d ever wanted anything else. So when Dean slipped a hand between his thighs, Castiel let his legs fall apart and gasped at the slick finger pressing gently against his rim. He moaned as the digit slipped inside, stilling as he tensed.

“C’mon, Cas, just relax, okay? Relax. Ahhhh, there you go, angel. Just like that.”

Dean pressed a soft kiss to Castiel’s hip and added another finger; Castiel wanted more immediately. The burning had faded to a painful thrill, and he was afraid he was going to explode before anything actually started. He felt when Dean pushed a third finger inside, when Dean wrapped his free hand around Castiel’s leaking cock, when Dean began stroking him slowly. He almost screamed when a wave of sharp pleasure racked through his body; Dean chuckled and did whatever it was, again and again. Castiel was near tears by the time Dean removed his fingers. Castiel whined, begged, pleaded for Dean as the other man slipped a condom onto his hard cock, coating the rubber with lube. Dean pushed Castiel’s knees to meet his chest, massaging his thighs, and pushed into Castiel with an excruciatingly slow pace. He bottomed out and groaned, and Castiel’s whispers turned into harsh tones.

“Please, Dean, oh, God... Move. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

The dirty words slipping from Cas’s lips spurned Dean into action. He waited just a few more seconds, to make sure Cas was really ready, and slid out. He started slow – it would be just his luck to hurt the poor guy in their first encounter – but the tightness of Cas’s channel and the mantra of _fuck me oh god Dean fuck me right there more_ pouring from Cas kept him near losing control. He shoved his hips forward, hard and fast, throwing his head back as Castiel yelped, thrashed about below him. Dean linked his fingers with Castiel’s, sliding their hands above Cas’s head, and slammed into Castiel as roughly as he could without hurting him too much. Dean pressed closely to Cas, chest meeting chest, and he knew that the movement caused the perfect angle change, for Castiel mewled and shouted. Dean could feel himself nearing the ledge; he struggled to hold it off, wanting Cas to release his load first. Wanting Cas to get the pleasure and world-rocking orgasm before he did. Three, four, five more thrusts, in which he knew he was hitting Castiel’s prostate, and Cas’s cock was spurting hot, sticky cum over their chests and necks. The sight of Castiel’s blue eyes hidden behind heavy lids, his teeth biting hard down on his lower lip, his nose scrunched up just slightly pushed Dean over the edge of the cliff. He buried his face into the crook of Cas’s neck, forcing himself to push even faster, and he tumbled into the abyss. The orgasm ripped through him with the force of a tsunami; he was still shuddering from it nearly a minute later as he collapsed beside Castiel.  

“Did I hurt you?”

Cas shook his head, exhausted from his own release. “No, that was amazing.”

“Yeah, it was.” Dean gazed at the man laying next to him. “You really have such a filthy mouth.”

“I don’t know what came over me.”

“Besides yourself?”

Cas laughed shakily, glancing down at his chest. Dean kissed him tenderly; it was such a change from everything that had transpired, that it took Castiel a few seconds to actually acknowledge what was happening. When Dean rolled off the bed and walked away, Castiel had to stop the spasm of hurt.

“Did... Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh, no, angel. You did everything completely right. I’m gonna clean us up, though. I’ll be right back.”

The softness with which Dean wiped his skin clean made Castiel tremble. Oh, no. He was going to cry. Before Dean could react, Cas rolled onto his stomach and buried his face into the mattress. His shoulders shook with the force of his sobs, and he couldn’t stop them, as hard as he tried to. Dean tossed the washcloth to the side, curling around the crying man. He whispered into Cas’s ear, gentle words and reassurances. Cas sniffled through the never-ending tears.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Hey, hey, don’t apologise. It’s fine.” Dean pressed a tender kiss to his temple. “It’s fine, angel. Just cry as long as you need to.”

It was another twenty minutes before Cas calmed down enough to take a deep breath and turn onto his side. Dean pushed the black locks from Cas’s face to better see the red-rimmed blue eyes. Cas wiped the remnants of his crying from his cheeks.

“I really –”

“No need to explain.”

“I do. I have to explain what happened.”

“Cas, you really don’t. You’re not the first person to cry after sex.”

“Is it common for virgins?”

Dean reeled back, shock rendering him speechless for a moment. “You...You were a virgin?”

“Yes.”

“Damn it, Cas, you should have told me!”

“I didn’t want you to not want me.”

“That was... That was an incredibly stupid thing for you to do.”

“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

“No,” he replied after taking a couple deep breaths. “No, I’m not mad at you, but I really wish you would’ve told me. I could’ve really hurt you, angel.”

“But you didn’t.’

“I could have. I could have hurt you, and that’s the last thing I ever would want. Please, just... From now on, be honest with me. Okay?”

“Okay. I promise.” Cas bit his lip, staring at Dean with hesitation in his eyes. “Can I be honest right now?”

“Of course.”

“I really want to have sex again.”

Dean groaned and rolled over to cage Castiel’s body with his own. “So do I.”

 

Every night for the next two weeks, Dean would go to the bar at seven p.m., drinking two or three beers before Castiel would enter at eight-thirty. They’d leave together by nine. By the fourth day of this routine, Jo, her mother Ellen, and the cook Benny started taking bets on how long it would before the green-eyed man stopped coming in so much. They’d all been witness to Dean’s prowess when it came to finding someone to take home – after he’d been in town for nearly a year, always coming to the bar every weekend to have a few beers and see if anyone was worth his attention for the night. More often than not, he left alone – though not without severe disappointment from the female patrons in the bar. Since the first night the blue-eyed man, who Jo had immediately carded upon his entrance the first time and confirmed he was indeed twenty-one (the ID said he’d only been of legal age to drink, for four months), Dean hadn’t spared a glance in anyone else’s direction; instead, he’d only stared into the mirror above the bar long enough to watch the other man enter, sit down, and order a drink. Jo had fifty dollars in the pool, that Dean would stop coming in by the end of the month; Benny, the next week; Ellen, by Friday.

Every night, Castiel would ride in Dean’s Impala, sometimes just curling against him and listening as Led Zeppelin played through the speakers, the other times, his mouth wrapped around Dean’s cock as the other man drove. Every night, they would collapse into Dean’s bed, a tangle of arms and legs. And every night, Dean brought Cas to a toe-curling, fireworks-behind-the-eyes orgasm.

It happened for the first time exactly two weeks from the night they’d first met. It was late; Dean was asleep. Castiel couldn’t sleep. He wasn’t quite satisfied yet, though they’d already gone twice in the past three hours. He slowly pushed the blankets back and slid off the bed. The lube was on the nightstand; he grasped it, pouring a decent amount of the it into his hand, before he laid back down beside Dean. His eyes never stopped memorising every curve, every solid plane, every mark on Dean’s tanned skin, as Cas smeared the lube on his fingers. With his gaze still set firmly on Dean, he raised a knee and pushed a finger deep into his ass. He knew it was an unnecessary step – he was already relaxed and stretched deliciously due to the rough sex they’d just had thirty minutes prior – but there was something _right_ about finding his prostate with his own fingers and bringing himself nearer the edge. When he was ready, he reached out to stroke Dean’s cock into stiffness. Dean grunted in his sleep, scratching his chest, but he didn’t wake up. Cas manoeuvred to straddle Dean’s hips, taking a deep breath, and impaled himself on the hard cock. He groaned harshly at the different angle; his chest heaved as his breath came in short rasps. He lifted himself slightly and slid back down. He closed his eyes at the sensation of velvety skin against his walls, head falling back at the soft curses escaping him.

Dean nearly came the second he opened his eyes: Cas was straddling him, Dean’s cock balls-deep inside of him, Castiel’s own cock laying neglected against Dean’s stomach. His head was thrown back, and Dean could faintly see the rapid pulsing of his veins under the pale skin. Cas’s full lips were moving with silent words. Dean watched as the other man used his thighs to rise up, trembling as he came back down slightly harder. That was all it took. Dean gripped Castiel’s hips tightly in his hands and thrust his hips up. Cas gasped and leaned forward to rest his hands against Dean’s chest. Dean helped him rise and fall, angling his hips enough to slam into Castiel’s prostate. Cas dragged his nails down Dean’s skin, and Dean bit back a ragged groan. He wanted to be on top of Cas, to pin Cas down to the mattress as he pounded into Cas’s ass with more force than he could use in the current position; but Cas wanted this. Cas wanted to lead while still receiving, while his ass still clung to Dean’s cock as it hit just the right spot.

Then it happened, as Cas could feel Dean starting to lose control: The green irises flashed to a deep black that overtook the entire eye. Dean blinked as he managed to thrust his hips harder, and the black was gone, replaced with dark, stormy, lustful green. Cas was aware he probably should have been afraid – after all, no human’s eyes did that – but... Knowing there was a rather large chance that Dean wasn’t full human shockingly turned him on even more. He gripped his cock and stroked himself rapidly; he didn’t care that the friction would most likely hurt later. There – the black was back. Cas rolled his hips again and again around Dean. He gave a yelp of surprised pain when Dean’s fingers dug into his waist and pulled him down onto his cock with an unexpected amount of strength, filling Cas’s hot channel with his release. Cas was chasing his own orgasm when Dean pushed him off of him. Before Castiel could say a word, Dean held Castiel’s wrists tightly in his hands and pressed them to the mattress. Cas cried out when Dean flicked his tongue against his swollen head. Dean grinned, licking the underside of Cas’s cock, from base to tip. He swirled his tongue around the head, lapped up the pre-cum. Castiel tasted better than Dean imagined. Dean teased longer, craving to hear those moans and whimpers; Cas jerked under Dean’s mouth as it suddenly surrounded his dick. The wet heat was more than Castiel could stand. He was shooting his load down Dean’s throat within seconds. He trembled as Dean trailed hot kisses up his sweat-soaked skin; finally, Dean reached his mouth and smiled. The emerald irises were all Cas could focus clearly on.

“That – that was fantastic,” breathed out Castiel, his lips finding purchase on Dean’s jaw.

“Yeah, it was. Did you know you taste really good?”

“So do you.”

They lay in silence for a while, both content with being held by the other. Finally, Cas had to ask.

“What... What, um, happened with your eyes?”

“What do you mean?”

Cas could hear the forced note to Dean’s tone. “They turned black. Like, all black.”

“Damn. You, uh, you saw that, then?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I wasn’t really wanting to tell you, at least not for a while, but, um. Come on, this requires whisky.”

“I don’t want alcohol.”

“Oh, you will.”

As they sat at Dean’s kitchen table, Cas noticed, under the dim light above, that his lover’s eyes were full of hesitation, of frustration. Dean slid a glass of amber liquid toward Castiel before draining his own glass and refilling it. With a sigh, he took his seat.

“This isn’t something I really wanted to talk about tonight. Or, any night, really.” Dean exhaled heavily. “What do you think happened?”

“I don’t know. All I know is we were having really, really good sex, and I looked down, and your eyes were completely black. I also know that you can’t be full human, since no one’s eyes do that.”

Dean chuckled wryly. “Yeah, you’re right. On both accounts. I’m not full human. I’m, uh... I’m a demon.”

“What?”

“I’m a demon.”

“I’ve been... I’ve been fucking a demon. This is _great_. I gave my virginity to a fucking demon.”

“Cas –”

“How have I not noticed before? Do you even really care about me? Is this all just some ploy to get me to go to Hell with you?”

“Cas, Cas, Cas, calm down. Take a drink. You never noticed before, because I was always in control before. I was well aware of what was going on, so I could keep myself grounded. You waking me up to that, it threw me. I couldn’t control myself. And no, this isn’t just some ploy to get you to go to Hell with me. I’m actually happier up here with you than I would be if I was in Hell, believe me.” Dean scooted his chair closer to Cas, breathing a sigh of relief when the other man didn’t move away. “And of course I really care about you, angel. I have since the moment I laid eyes on you. I knew you were the one I needed. If we hadn’t been together for only two weeks, I would be sure I love you.”

“Can you even love?”

He sighed. “Some say no, as a demon, we’re unequipped to love. But me? I say we were human once, we know those emotions even if they’re faded, so we _can_. Hell, you brought feelings back that I thought I’d never feel again.”

Cas sipped his whisky, mulling over what Dean was saying. Finally, he let out a slow exhale and turned to face Dean.

“I can’t believe what I’m about to say, but... I believe you. I believe that you’re a demon who can love.”

“Why are you laughing?”

“You’re a demon, and I’m your angel.”

“Yes, you are.”

Dean captured Cas’s mouth with a gentle kiss – a gentle kiss that turned into something heated, more powerful, when Cas wiggled onto Dean’s lap and wrapped his arms around his neck. Cas laughed as Dean groaned, feeling their rapidly-stiffening cocks rubbing together as he rolled his hips into Dean’s. Dean stood, his hands grasping Castiel’s ass so he wouldn’t fall (plus, he just loved to touch the soft, supple cheeks, whether he was just touching for the sake of feeling them, or holding them steady as he pounded into the hole between the globes), and laid Cas back onto the table. He pressed a hard kiss to Cas’s mouth before dropping down to run his tongue along the rim of the ring of muscles. Castiel gasped; he was unsure as to what Dean was doing, but the unfamiliarity of it caused his heart to race. And when Dean slipped his tongue inside, Cas damn near bucked off the table with the riptide of pleasure. He knew he sounded pathetic, with the loud whines and incessant begging falling from his lips, but he couldn’t stop himself – Dean was doing strange things to him that Cas wasn’t sure he wanted to cease. Dean grasped Castiel’s ankles, bringing them up to rest on his shoulders, and spit into his hand. Cas raised an eyebrow as he watched Dean stroke himself with his wet hand. All rational thought fled Castiel’s brain when Dean pushed into him. His fingers scrabbled against the smooth, wooden table-top in his search for something to keep him grounded. Dean’s rough fingers were holding tightly to Castiel’s waist, and his thrusts never slowed or gentled as he met Castiel’s gaze – and let his eyes flicker black. Cas gasped and began pulling on his hard erection, his wrist twisting as he stroked the thick shaft. A disappointed whine broke free when Dean’s eyes went back to green with a quick blink. Dean grinned lasciviously, sped up his thrusts, and waited until Castiel’s breathing became erratic, the hand on his cock trembling in anticipation of his orgasm. Dean held onto Cas’s chin and kept his eyes trained on those blue irises of his angel. _Angel._ As soon as Cas bit his lip, Dean’s eyes flashed black; the sight sent Castiel over the edge, and his release spilled over his hand, pooling at the base of his cock. Dean followed after a few more pushes, his seed filling Castiel’s ass as he groaned and stilled. He stood without moving, Cas’s ankles still on his shoulders, cock softening inside Castiel, until his knees quit feeling so weak. Finally, he pulled away and cleaned up their mess without speaking. Castiel lead him to the bed they’d been sharing every night for two weeks.

Months passed. Ellen and Jo still liked to give Dean Hell for them losing the bet to Benny. The couple enjoyed going to the bar to hang out with the Harvelles and the Cajun cook. Sometimes, Dean would force Castiel out of the roadhouse when Castiel would decide to tease him by flirting with other patrons. Sometimes, it was Castiel dragging Dean out to the Impala for a quickie when Dean would flash his black eyes toward his lover when nobody was looking. Most of the time, however, Dean took a rather large amount of pleasure from knowing Castiel was sporting a hard erection in his pants from Dean’s eyes and refuse to leave, citing having fun with Jo or Ash, a regular they’d come to be friends with, which left Castiel struggling to not get himself off as they sat at the bar. Since Dean had requested Castiel to endure the pleasurable torture (it truly made sex at home much more fun), there were only a couple times Cas had literally run to the bathroom when the pressure of his stiff cock rubbing against his boxers became too much. Dean would usually come find him a few heartbeats after Cas would disappear and, standing with his chest pressed against Castiel’s back, wrap his hand around Cas’s cock until his angel would come undone, expelling his load into the toilet in front of them as he cursed and whispered Dean’s name under his breath. Once Dean finally decided to stop teasing Cas, they’d make the quick drive to Dean’s apartment – _their_ apartment – and Cas would launch himself at Dean as soon as they stepped inside.  

 

 

Another six months flew by; Cas had dropped out of college for the semester, instead working at Ellen’s Roadhouse. Dean had enough money that Cas really didn’t have to work, but Cas kept saying he wanted to feel useful in their relationship. His real reason was the fact that he felt too overwhelmed being in the apartment alone when Dean would go out of town for his job (which was often – Castiel had never really asked what it was; he just assumed it had something to do with Dean being a demon). That was why, on Castiel’s birthday, he was more than a little upset at Dean not being home yet. They’d been at a store earlier that day, looking for a present for Castiel’s brother, when Dean had let out a low whistle. When Cas had looked up, the sight went straight to his cock – Dean, smirking, had let his green eyes disappear. All Castiel wanted to do was jump him right then, but they were in the middle of a crowded store, and sexual intercourse was frowned upon in public places. Dean had gone his separate way shortly after Cas had paid for Gabe’s gift; he’d given a vague reason and vanished into the crowd. With a groan at the memory, he rolled over onto his stomach and twisted the base of the plug he’d bought a few weeks after he’d moved in with Dean. A harsh moan came from somewhere behind him, and rough fingers – ones he would always recognise as Dean’s – replaced his as a tongue wiggled its way to join the plug in his ass. Dean nipped at the skin of his ass cheek, soothing the pain with a wet kiss, and Cas moaned when Dean gently removed the plug.

“Oh, angel. You should’ve texted me if you were this excited. I wouldn’t have been gone so late.”

With no preamble, there was Dean’s cock, filling Castiel in the most sinful of ways, and Cas whimpered. Dean knitted his fingers through Cas’s hair and pulled his head back for their gazes to meet. Dean slammed hard into Castiel, the echoes of flesh slapping against flesh rebounding off the walls; Cas didn’t dare take his eyes away from Dean. Tonight was purely about the act – Dean knew Cas loved him, Cas knew Dean loved him – and they’d been apart for far too long for either of them to allow their emotions to get involved. Cas’s eyes watered in desperation – he so wanted to blink, but oh, God, there were those black eyes... He hadn’t even touched himself, and he was already spilling onto the bedspread with a high-pitched moan. Dean declined himself his orgasm, deigning instead to wait until Castiel was ready again, before he forced himself to go slower, to relish the sensation of his bare cock sliding past Castiel’s walls. He let go when Castiel reached back to dig his nails into Dean’s thigh, signalling that he was close again. Dean thrust faster, angling to hit Castiel’s prostate, gasping as Cas clenched around him. As soon as they were both satisfied, Dean pulled Cas into his arms, their sweat mingling, and pressed a deep kiss to Castiel’s lips.

“I love you, Cas, as much as a demon can love an angel.”

“I love you, too, Dean.”

 


End file.
